


What I Was Looking For

by katsukii



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sharkbaitshipping - Freeform, more dumb stuff, this is bad bc i cranked it out way too fast oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:07:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22202317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katsukii/pseuds/katsukii
Summary: Ryouga is terrible with words and just can't seem to find what he wants to say - even though he knows exactly what it is.
Relationships: Kamishiro Ryouga/Tsukumo Yuuma
Comments: 5
Kudos: 37





	What I Was Looking For

“Would you just listen to me for two seconds?”

Ryouga snaps it rather than speaks it. It’s an instant mistake, and he recognizes it all too late.

The hurt that flashes across Yuuma’s face in the seconds following is evident. His eyes seem to flicker with a kind of confusion, brows knit and raise at the inner corners, pathetic, as if to say,  _ what have I done?  _ He’s so much like a puppy that it’s painful, and Ryouga is not at all immune to the inherent, stupid charm that is Yuuma and his shimmering, doey eyes. In moments like these, he rediscovers how exhausting it is to care for someone so deeply.

Ryouga sighs heavy through his nose. God.

“Look, I’m sorry. I just. Need to talk. Without you interrupting me, okay?” he tries again, cracking half a forced smile as the words wobble out of his mouth. He sounds unsure of himself, but he  _ isn’t  _ unsure - just inept at the whole “caring about people” situation, and besides that, how does one talk to someone without a bitter bite to their tone? It’s so ground into his character, so base-level habitual that he can scarcely remember a time he wasn’t perpetually on the offensive. He knows it’s little more than a defense mechanism, but it has worked for him so far, and part of him doesn’t want to surrender himself, doesn’t want to let down the walls for someone to walk into his heart, because only disaster can await, and Ryouga is fragile.

Yuuma’s irises are searching, staring into his own, imploring,  _ what is it?  _ And Ryouga remembers the conversation he has rehearsed too many times to count. He has to do this. For Rio’s sake, at least, if not for his own.

He has to make her proud.

“Yuuma,” he begins, and he pauses, as if waiting for the named individual to interrupt. When he stays silent, fixated on Ryouga’s face, Ryouga breathes a sigh of relief and continues. “I…”

And just like that, he falters. The perfect conversation, all practiced and meticulously planned, slips from his grasp, like water between his fingers. Yuuma’s stare is all too beckoning; he’s going to have to improvise, and making up such a heavy conversation as he goes is going to be no easy task.

“I…” Like you. No. He draws a blank. _ Fuck _ . “...want to Duel you.”

Yuuma’s face lights up; he reaches for his deck holster.

“No, wait, that’s a lie. That isn’t what I meant to say,” Ryouga corrects, feeling his cheeks glow warm. “What I meant was that I… I like…”

He fumbles for the words; Yuuma nods his head encouragingly,  _ go on.  _ He’s curious, obviously missing every cue that would finish the sentence in Ryouga’s stead. He misses the creeping blush, misses the anxious fingers fiddling with one another, misses the bead of sweat running down Ryouga’s forehead. And Ryouga hates him for it. How dare he be forced to say this aloud?

He draws a deep, slow breath. Calm down.

“I like… birds.”

“Really? Me too! I have a whole book my Grandma gave me about bird watching! Wanna go upstairs and look through it? We can go to the park later and check out the birds.”

Ryouga cringes at himself. “No. That isn’t what I meant to say either.”

“Geez, Shark, you’re confusing me.” Yuuma cants his head to the side, purses his lips. “Are you okay?”

_ No. _ “Yes.”

Yuuma hums thoughtfully. He’s losing interest; Ryouga begins to panic. He can’t let Yuuma’s focus get away from him. Too forcefully, he clears his throat, puffs up his chest as if to assure himself that, yes, he’s powerful, yes, he can do this. It’s just three easy, painless words.  _ Three _ . Of the multitudes of conversations he’s had with Yuuma before, the legions of words thrown back and forth, surely he can muster three. Just three. Simple.

He steels himself. His dark eyes grow narrow.

“Yuuma. What I meant to say was, I…” he starts, swallowing an invasive lump in his throat. Do it.  _ Do it. Do it, damn it!  _ “I… like… you.”

Yuuma blinks. “Huh?”

“You heard me,” Ryouga grumbles, arms folding instinctively across his chest. His gaze darts to the left, focusing on an antique clock that he supposes belongs to Yuuma’s grandmother. The internal pendulum swings slowly, seconds ticking by. No one speaks.

“Aw, Shark! I like you too! You’re my best friend in the whole world!” Yuuma declares, grinning as he steps forward, reaches out a hand to tug at Ryouga’s sleeve. The delicate fabric is soft against the pads of his fingers; he giggles at the ticklish sensation. Against his better judgment, Ryouga’s eyes flit back to Yuuma.

“Again, not what I me-”

And Yuuma presses a finger to his lips, makes a “shush” sound. His eyes are wide, reflecting the whole of the universe. “Do you hear that?” he asks, and Ryouga shakes his head, _ no, I don’t hear anything _ , save for the ticking of the clock and the pounding of his heart in his ears. But Yuuma doesn’t say anything, just closes his eyes and listens to the silence that is threatening to crush them both.

“Know what that sound is?”

“No.”

“It’s the music that’s playing in my heart. For you!”

“What?”

“Shark, you silly! My heart is filled with music whenever I see you. And that’s how I know.”

“Know what?”

“That I like you.” Yuuma smiles once more, but this time it’s shy, unsure. His tanned skin has flushed red at the cheeks and tips of his ears; it’s endearing, and Ryouga stares openly, because maybe he  _ does  _ hear it, maybe the music is playing for both of them. It’s dull and far away, but there’s a melody that echoes in his eardrums, a refrain that infects his mind and crawls through his ribcage all the way from his heart to his stomach. It swirls with butterflies and music notes and the rice balls he ate for lunch, and he suddenly feels quite sick. He bites his tongue, hard, stifles the rising bile in his throat.

“Can I do something you won’t like?” Yuuma asks, gentle.

“I don’t like that question. Why would I say yes.” Still, he  _ wants  _ to say yes. After all, it’s hard for him to resist when it comes to Yuuma and his dumb, effortless charm. It’s so ridiculous that someone so airheaded is so beautiful. And funny. And _cute_ , he thinks, watching Yuuma wiggle his eyebrows playfully. Ryouga hates it.

“Just say yes. Please. _Pleeease_.”

He rolls his eyes. “Fine.”

Yuuma pumps a fist in the air. “Yes! Okay, close your eyes. I have a surprise for you.”

Ryouga thinks he knows where this is going. Yuuma’s going to fake him out. He sighs from the bottom of his chest, closes his eyes, anticipates whatever stupid prank is incoming. A wet finger to his lips, a false kiss, a nose touch.

But Yuuma kisses him. Really kisses him. It’s soft - so soft that Ryouga barely registers the touch of lips to his own - but it’s there, a subtle pressure that sends his heart into hysterics. Smaller hands find his, clutch them tightly, and Ryouga dares not open his eyes for fear that this is all in his head. He wants to believe this is real, wants to believe that he’ll have a successful tale to recount to Rio later that evening. He wants to believe Yuuma likes him as much as he likes Yuuma. But realistically, that isn’t possible. Yuuma has a place for everyone in his heart, and Ryouga can only occupy so much of it. He feels himself begin to frown, but staves it off for Yuuma’s sake. _ Be happy, _ he thinks. It won’t last forever, but it’ll last for now.  _ Be happy. Smile. _

And he does. Genuinely, he smiles.

“Want to go bird watching?” Yuuma asks quietly, still holding Ryouga’s hands. It’s an innocent enough question, and the suddenness of it makes Ryouga laugh.

“Sure.”

Yuuma squeezes his hand before letting go and making a beeline for the stairs. “I’ll go get the book! Wait here, Shark!” And just like that, he’s gone, little more than a blur of red and white.

Just like that, he’s gone. But the warmth remains.

Ryouga isn’t unsure anymore.


End file.
